


Verbena

by Cyhyr



Series: SylvixWeek2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Established Relationship, Fluff, Injury Recovery, M/M, off-screen vampires, other fantasy creatures mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26590636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyhyr/pseuds/Cyhyr
Summary: Sylvain is a witch. Felix keeps the supernatural community of Fhirdiad in check. Sometimes, things are fine.Other times, things are definitely not.Written for SylvixWeek2020 Day 1: Urban Fantasy AU
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: SylvixWeek2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934302
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Verbena

**Author's Note:**

> I am a White Wolf LARPer. You will be able to tell because of ALL of the references I make to various genres of games in the story. I'm not tagging this in the WTA, VTM, ect fandoms because those elements are not the focus of the story and I don't *think?* knowledge of the LARP games helps or hinders one's enjoyment of the story in any way.
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Hey wait, Felix.” Sylvain dropped their clasped hands and stepped to the side of the sidewalk. Someone had planted a small herb garden in a window box, low enough that Sylvain could reach. The plants were thrumming with new life and energy, but the heavy weight of the city’s own energy would hinder their growth without a little help.

“Sylvain,” Felix hissed, “It’s broad daylight. Just because you’re with the Sheriff, that doesn’t excuse a breach of the Veil.”

“It’s just a little sigil drawing,” Sylvain explained, grabbing an oil-crayon out of his bag. “Don’t worry about it.”

“And if any supers see? They’ll think I’m playing favorites. It’s bad enough we’re...” Felix flushed, scowled; muttered, “together.”

Sylvain carefully drew small sigils for _life, power,_ and _hidden_ , and then pressed two fingers to the window box lightly. The designs briefly glowed, then disappeared entirely. He smiled as the basil and rosemary in the box perked up immediately, and brushed his hand over the leaves of the parsley to feel the reaching energy it now emitted in gentle pulses.

The crayon went back in its place in his bag and he returned to his spot next to Felix. He leaned down and kissed him on the cheek with a grin. “Thanks, Felix. Shall we?” He offered his arm to the other man, which was taken with a fond huff and they continued their walk. As they turned the block and Sylvain’s apartment building came into sight, he decided he didn’t want his time with Felix to end. “Can you come upstairs?”

Felix shook his head. “I have the rest of my patrol to finish by sunset.” They both looked west and saw the reddening sky.

Sylvain sighed. “Just for a drink? Come up for some tea. Ten minutes.”

“Sylvain, no. The Blood Court is holding some kind of ceremony tonight just after dusk, so I have to hit the docks before then.” Sylvain’s disappointment must have been telling, because Felix leaned into him and squeezed his arm briefly. “But, perhaps,” he started slowly, “I could stop by after my business with the vampires is finished.”

“Will you stay the night?” Sylvain asked, suddenly excited.

Felix flushed. “ _Maybe_ ,” he muttered. “It depends on how late it gets.”

Sylvain wrapped Felix in a tight hug and rocked them back and forth in the middle of the sidewalk. Felix half-heartedly tried to push him away, but ultimately relaxed into the embrace and returned it with his arms around Sylvain’s waist. He tipped Felix’s chin up and kissed him, quick and chaste, and then whispered, “I love you.”

“Sap,” Felix whispered back.

“You’re hurting me, Felix. A holly branch, right through the heart.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Felix said hastily. “I love you, too. Don’t—”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Stay safe.”

“I’m not the one going out into the dregs of supernatural society,” Sylvain said, frowning. “Is your amulet charged? Do you need new crystals? Are you sure I can’t get you to come up for some tea—?”

“Sylvain!” Felix cut him off, resting his palms on Sylvain’s chest. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this for years. Yes, my amulet is charged; no, my crystals are in good shape; and I’ve got both Mercedes and Annette on speed dial just in case something goes horribly wrong— _which it won’t_.”

“I’m allowed to worry,” Sylvain said, kissing him again. “I’ll see you later.”

Felix nodded, and then turned away with a wave over his shoulder. He would head for Loog Park a few blocks away to check in with the sept of shifters that lived there, before heading out to the docks. Sylvain watched Felix go until he turned down an alley and was out of sight, then decided to head up and scrounge up some dinner.

The elevator in his building worked fine, but Sylvain knew better than to risk a ride. Each time since the first, the elevator had gotten stuck between floors; once, even beginning to give out and drop. Thankfully, at the time he had components for _time, stop,_ and _portal_ , and so was able to cross into a prepared reception circle in his apartment. Calling Felix about that incident that night, well before they had gotten together, was about the most embarrassing thing he’d had to do since moving to Fhirdiad.

Felix, of course, fixed the problem and got the elevator working again. He’d yelled at Sylvain for carelessly using unnecessary technology, and swore he wouldn’t help the next time Sylvain got himself in trouble. Within the moon he’d broken that promise, of course; as the Sheriff, he was bound to assist the supernaturals of his city in keeping the Veil.

So when Sylvain found himself on the receiving end of a bad fae pact that would have required public magic to fulfill, Felix was there to negotiate on his behalf.

And when the sept claimed territory on his block that prevented him from leaving his apartment, Felix fought every one of them back to Loog park.

Sylvain checked up and down his hallway, making sure it was empty before pressing fingers to his door and unwinding the wards around his home. It was a quick process due to habit and magic memory; he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hung his keys, bag, and coat by the door while he toed off his shoes.

 _Dinner first, then maybe some incense and a book._ He looked around his apartment, seeing the bowl of crystals by his window, the altar above the hearth, and sniffed. Felix was coming over later. Normally he’d deep clean tomorrow but... “I could at least use to dust,” he mused.

* * *

The sun had long since set; Sylvain settled into the couch with a journal and pen, scratching away at some notes on an idea for an adaptation of a lightning generation spell. He looked up from his journal at movement from the corner of his eye to see ripples on the surface of a bowl of water he kept on his coffee table. “Who the hell…?” Sylvain set his journal down and pinched a few thyme flowers off of the potted plant set beside the bowl.

He cast the thyme into the rippling water, touched his hand to the bowl, and let the magic work to open the scry. The water twisted and flowed into the face of his and Felix’s mutual friend, Annette. While normally receiving a scry from Annette was a pleasant surprise—and Sylvain did start to smile when he saw who it was—her worried eyes and pout immediately put Sylvain on edge.

“Sylvain, you gotta come to Mercie’s clinic,” Annette said as soon as the connection was established.

“What happened?”

“It’s—” Annette looked off to the side, garbled voices barely making it through the water. Her eyes widened, and tears started to form. “It’s Felix. Just hurry, okay? We’re doing what we can.”

The scry ended suddenly, once Annette walked out of view of her own scrying bowl. Sylvain stood, nearly knocked his table over, and ran to the front door to grab his keys before slamming the door shut behind him. He didn’t bother checking the lock, or that the hallway was clear, just waved a hand to put up his wards as he threw himself towards the stairs.

He _knew_ the Blood Court couldn’t be trusted. Damn fangs. But as Sheriff it was Felix’s job to at least give every supernatural a chance; and the Court had yet to even be noticed in their feeding patterns, so Felix had little reason to kick them out of Fhirdiad.

Bursting out onto the street, he thought briefly about grabbing a cab; but with his emotions running this high, even an older model would likely give out under his magic right now. The clinic Mercedes ran was five minutes away by car.

Sylvain tucked his bag behind his back and started running.

 _Need to find a way to make phones work around my magic_. Each street lamp flickered out as he passed under them. He passed a couple strolling down the sidewalk, and he quickly raised his hand and muttered a memory charm as he ran by. Hopefully, they’ll remember him as a large dog or a heavy gust of leaves… otherwise his very presence in the city was a Veil breach right now and he was going to be in _so much trouble_ when Felix—

Goddess, _Felix_. What did they do to him? Most fangs were typical, bloodsucking nocturnal leeches but occasionally the bite that turned them could give them weird abilities. Worse, they could have _embraced_ Felix—made him one of them; Sylvain’s magic was so incompatible with those creatures, the stink of vampires could roll his stomach. Their relationship was so new...could it last through such a change? And poor Felix, he’d have to give up his position as Sheriff, the job he’d been training for since he was thirteen.

Fuck.

Sylvain slid to a stop in front of Mercedes’s clinic, panting and clutching the stitch in his side. There was a light on in the back, dim from the distance, and Sylvain tapped rapidly on the glass door to get Annette’s attention. A shadow stepped in the way of the light, and then grew as it came closer. Annette’s distinct hair loops, along with her tiny frame, gave her away well before he could make out her face from the flickering streetlights.

“Come on, Mercie’s still working on him,” Annette said instead of a greeting. At least she wasn’t crying anymore.

Sylvain shouldered through the door and took large steps through the reception to the offices in the back. He stopped in the doorway that was lit, braced his hands on either side of the frame, and nearly fell to his knees as they weakened and almost buckled. Annette slipped her shoulders under him, her arm snaking around his waist; “Sit down. It looks worse than it is, I swear,” she said.

Mercedes smiled at Sylvain as Annette placed him beside Felix. “We’ve had enough time to heal the worst of it,” she said, wiping away blood from Felix’s neck. _Bites, oh goddess oh fuck please no—_

“Sylvain,” Annette shook him. “He’s gonna be okay. He got away; he got here in time. Mercedes couldn’t find any beginnings of vampirism. The bites are superficial. _He’s gonna be okay._ ”

Mercedes’s magic dimmed and finally faded out. Sylvain looked up at her and asked, “When will he wake up?”

She stood to wash her hands. “It’s... hard to say,” she started slowly. “We still don’t know what exactly happened. I’ve seen vampire attacks of course, but this was something else.”

Annette began to help Mercedes clean up. “It really was. He was lethargic and tripping over his words,” she said. “The last thing he said before he passed out was to call for you. Said something about missing a date?”

Sylvain took Felix’s hand in his own; brought his knuckles to his lips. “He was supposed to come over for tea after his rounds,” he muttered. “I didn’t even notice how late it was getting. Fuck.”

It turned quiet in the office after that. Mercedes and Annette cleaned up components and tools, bagged up cut-up bloody clothes, and then left Sylvain to sit alone in the room while they did goddess-knows-what in the rest of the clinic. Once the door closed behind Mercedes, Sylvain moved his chair so he could sit closer to Felix’s face.

Four bites, two on each side of his neck; no one’s better than Mercedes though, and if she said they’re not embracing bites then Sylvain will believe her. She’s a powerful sorcerer, but magic could only do so much against supernatural wounds. She would have focussed her power on cleaning and disinfecting. The bites may even scar.

Sylvain didn’t know how to feel about that. He didn’t know how _Felix_ would feel about that. He pushed his fingers through inky hair, grimacing at the matted blood he found near the ends. A thumb to Felix’s pulse under his jaw; his heart was still strong and steady, albeit a bit slow even for sleep.

He took his bag onto his lap and reached in. He quickly found the tiny jar of small purple flowers, along with his oil-crayon. Maybe healing the bites’ scars would be overstepping, but certainly some sigils and verbena would be okay? Sylvain drew careful, looping figures of _healing, protection,_ and after a second’s hesitation, _romance_ on Felix’s arm. It wouldn’t be a love charm, just an impression of Sylvain’s feelings onto Felix’s energy. He shook a small handful of verbena flowers into his palm and pressed them to the sigils.

His magic glowed a soft lavender for a few seconds before fading out. The verbena withered in his palm, their energy expended and passed into the sigils—and, through them, into Felix. Sylvain stood and left Felix’s side for only a moment to throw away the withered component; he returned to Felix’s breath deepening with a groan.

“Felix?” he gasped. He cupped Felix’s face with one hand, held onto Felix’s hand tight with his other.

“Gonna break m’ hand,” Felix mumbled.

Sylvain laughed, leaned forward, and kissed Felix’s forehead. “I've been so worried,” he said.

“I did try to warn you,” Felix said, “back when we first got together.”

“Your job is dangerous, blah blah, whatever,” Sylvain kissed his cheek. “What happened?”

“The ceremony was some kind of vampiric ritual,” Felix growled. “Any vampire associated with the Blood Court had better flee Fhirdiad—fuck, _Faerghus_ , after my father hears of this. I’ll give them until the sunrise after tomorrow.”

“Mercedes says you’ll be alright,” Sylvain said.

“Doesn’t matter. They attacked the Sheriff.” Felix struggled to sit up; Sylvain helped, packing pillows under his back to prop him up. “They’re lucky I’m giving them time to get out before I begin the hunt,” Felix smirked. “Goddess knows the wolves have been snapping at the bit to rid the city of the vampires.”

“And the fae, and most of the magical folk. No one wanted the fangs in the city.” Sylvain added. He frowned. “But you need to get yourself back to top form, first, okay?”

“Sylvain.”

“No, I’m not budging on this. You get a clean bill of health from Mercedes and then we can go hunt the Blood Court.” He leaned over and kissed Felix’s forehead again. “I was so scared when Annie scried me. Please. Take the time you need before going out again.”

“I have a job—”

“You said it yourself. The sept will happily take care of it.” Sylvain ran his thumb over Felix’s hand. “I’ll go to the park myself tomorrow and tell them the good news, if you want.”

Sylvain watched Felix’s eyes dart from his lap, to their joined hands, to the sigils drawn into his arm. He let his hand fall from Felix’s face to his neck, where he lightly drew his thumb over the bite marks left there. “Thought I was gonna lose you,” he muttered.

The fight went out of Felix in a huff. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “At least, not anywhere without you.” His face lit up in a fetching pink blush as he tightened his own hold on Sylvain’s hand.

Sylvain, himself, couldn’t hold back the grin. “Yeah?” He leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, brushed nose against nose.

“I won’t say it again.”

“I think you will. Someday.”

“Sylvain.”

“Felix?”

“Kiss me.”

_Magic._

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a practising witch. I apologize if the magic Sylvain used made no sense. I made it up.


End file.
